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He shifted his gaze to his grandfather’s wing of the resort. The lights in Chandler’s office were still burning bright. Of course they are. Because the truth that Quinn could no longer deny was that the more he focused on building his business to the exclusion of all else, the more he became like his grandfather. It had been no fluke that Quinn had seen his grandfather’s pinched, stressed eyes on his own face when he’d looked into the mirror last night.
It wasn’t easy to admit, but Quinn couldn’t ignore this wake-up call. Not when he could too easily see himself in another ten years, alone and so damn focused on his work that no one wanted to be near him.
But the tightening in his chest and the twisting of his stomach over how he’d treated Shelley cut deeper than the thought of becoming unlikable and losing his business deal combined ever could.
That guilt was a first, and it hit him like a ton of bricks.
He needed to apologize. Immediately.
Quinn ran out of his suite. He took the stairs two at a time, grabbing a handful of flowers out of a vase in the hallway and bolting out the back door of the resort. The crisp air stung his cheeks as he raced across the patio, down the stone steps to the beach, and sprinted toward her cottage.
As he ran, he couldn’t stop thinking about how Shelley reveled in so many things he took for granted. She was not only the sexiest woman alive, she was also so full of happiness, so free-spirited. And she had lit up parts of him, desires in him, that he thought had disappeared forever.
For the first time in his life, he’d been seriously considering more than a fling. He didn’t want to lose Shelley’s light, that wonderful brightness that had been missing from his life. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny the truth that the carefree, relaxed man he’d been on the beach with her this afternoon wasn’t at all who he really was.
He stopped running and paced as he tried to untangle his web of emotions.
Shelley sure as hell didn’t deserve a guy who got stuck on business calls and was juggling so many demands that he ignored her. Should he set her free to find a man who wasn’t destined to become like Chandler?
That thought stopped him cold. Because now that he’d met Shelley, he simply couldn’t imagine not holding her again, not seeing her bright smile or hearing her sweet laughter. He refused to think about waking up tomorrow morning knowing today was all they’d have.
Over the past ten years, Quinn had worked doubly—triply—hard to prove himself. He hadn’t wanted anyone to think he’d gotten to where he was with his business just because he was a Rockwell. And somewhere along the way, those twenty-hour days, seven days a week, had become a habit. More than that, his workload and endless hours in meetings and at his computer had become his entire life—all he knew and all he could see for himself into the future. Quinn had been only as good as his next deal, only as good as his ranking on the Fortune 100 list. Romance was nowhere on his list of priorities, not even a blip on his screen.
Until last night, when he’d found Shelley at the cove and then spent today clamming with her.
Suddenly, for the first time in a very long time, Quinn could see a different future. One he could have only if he took a long hard look in the mirror, admitted that he didn’t like what he was seeing anymore, and then put the work in to change his life. For the better this time.
He’d screwed up, but he was going to fix it, damn it. More than just fix it—he wasn’t going to let himself turn into Chandler and end up losing everyone who mattered in his life.
Right here, right now, Quinn Rockwell was going to change.
He knew he hadn’t been the man Shelley deserved, and that he’d been a selfish jerk for putting work ahead of her. But there beneath the moonlight, with the chilly air stinging his face and his heart so full of Shelley he felt as if she filled his entire being, he knew that the man he’d been was nowhere near the man he was capable of being—the man he wanted to be.
The man he would become for Shelley.
Every step marked with determination, he strode down the beach toward her cottage. The telltale scent of burning wood hung in the air, bringing him back to their conversation before the phone call.
The bonfire.
The ache ground in deeper, fueling his resolve to never, ever let her down again.
Shelley wouldn’t have spent the night pining after any man. A woman who took a solo honeymoon would have no trouble having a solo bonfire—and he was bound and determined that she’d never want to have a solo anything again.
